


Mistletoe Kisses

by PrettyKitty93



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Cute, First Kiss, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyKitty93/pseuds/PrettyKitty93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is never gentle, but when John does the unexpected, Sherlock must make sacrifices for his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe Kisses

It was that time of year again and John had just finished decorating the tree while Sherlock did his usual thing; sulked.

“Why do you insist on these awful traditions, John? You're a grown man.” Sherlock whined, waving at the tree.

“Because it's Christmas, Sherlock. And Christmas is fun.” John grinned, hanging some fairy lights around the mirror.

Sherlock groaned and threw his arm over his eyes, now completely ignoring the ex-army doctor.

John smiled fondly and looked around for the mistletoe he'd bought. He found it under a pile of sheets on their desk and hung it over the flat door.

The younger man could practically feel John grinning like an idiot and looked up towards the door.

“And what is _that_?”

“Mistletoe, Sherlock. I'm sure you know that tradition.”

“Oh yes, the one were drunk people are forced to kiss someone they never would if they were sober.”

“Yeah, well.” John muttered, hoping Sherlock wouldn't see his face fall.

He mentally shook himself and went to make himself a tea.

 _Get it together, Watson. He doesn't do relationships. You need to get over your little crush_. John told himself, rubbing a hand over his face.

The kettle boiled loudly through John's thoughts and he poured himself tea before ignoring the fact he was getting a little pudgy and grabbing the biscuits as well.

He sat down in his chair and was about to read his book before he was interrupted.

“John. John!” Sherlock shouted, his arm now back over his eyes.

“What, Sherlock? I'm right here, by the way.”

Sherlock shot up like a rocket and looked over at his flatmate, “I thought you'd left.”

“Why?”

“I couldn't hear you. Why are you quiet? You should be talking or worse, humming. You always hum when there's one of these … _things_.”

“You mean, a public holiday?” John smirked, quirking an eyebrow at his flatmate.

“Exactly. Haven't you got somewhere to be?”

“It's Christmas Eve, Sherlock. Where would I be at eight pm on Christmas Eve?”

“Don't you usually have dates?”

“With a flatmate like you, half of them think I only put up with you because you're my boyfriend and the other half think I'm trying to make you jealous.”

“All of your dates think that you're gay?”

John gave Sherlock a bewildered look at the fact that Sherlock Holmes actually asked a question.

“What?” Sherlock snapped.

“First of all, was that a question? Did you _genuinely_ not deduce that about those women? And second, it wasn't all my dates. Some of them thought you were jealous of me having a girlfriend.”

“What if I was?” Sherlock huffed back, glaring at John.

“What?”

“Your girlfriends thought I was jealous of you so you stopped having girlfriends?”

“I've not stopped having girlfriends, I've just stopped bringing them _here_!” John snapped angrily, slamming his tea down on the table and splashing it over his book.

_Why does Sherlock always have to push my buttons? And why do I have to love this idiot? Wait, what?_

“John!”

“What!” John yelled, feeling a little smug that Sherlock actually recoiled back.

The younger man just huffed and flopped back onto the couch.

“I'm going for a shower.” John announced, needing to get away from the infuriating idiot genius.

x..x

John returned an hour later having sorted out his confused feelings and feeling a lot calmer.

“Chinese?” Sherlock asked by way of greeting.

“Sure, why not?”

Sherlock smiled and John felt his heart melt, realising just how screwed he was.

The younger man disappeared into the kitchen to order their food while John sunk into his chair and started thinking.

_So apparently, I'm in love with Sherlock Holmes. Wow. You're completely fucked, Watson._

John hadn't realised how lost he got in his thoughts until he heard paper bags russling and Sherlock placed the bag of chinese food on the table.

“Ah, good. You're done sulking.”

“Idiot.” John muttered, grinning at his mad flatmate.

Sherlock grinned back before digging into his chinese hungrily. John shook his head in amusement, well, the detective hadn't actually eaten in two and a half days so it was no surprise that he was hungry.

John tucked into his own chinese as silence fell over to 221B and snow started to fall outside the window.

John settled into his chair with a full stomach as Sherlock walked over to his violin and began to play a slow Christmas song, watching the snow falling outside.

The ex-army doctor let his eyes settle on the younger man and he realised just how beautiful Sherlock looked when he played his beloved violin.

John must have fell into a light sleep because when he opened his eyes again, both violin and bow were sat on the desk as Sherlock continued to stare out the window.

The clock chimed midnight and John smiled to himself. He stood up from his chair and, without thinking properly, gently placed a kiss on Sherlock's cheek, whispering a soft “Merry Christmas, Sherlock.”

In Sherlock's mind palace it was as if suddenly, everything came into focus from just that innocent kiss and Sherlock watched through the window as John made his way over to the door.

He turned quickly and grabbed John's hand, pulling him back and kissing the ex-army doctor softly on the lips, right under the mistletoe.

“Merry Christmas, John.” Sherlock smiled, squeezing John's fingers before dropping his hand.

“So, are we … What now?” John asked in bewilderment, looking up at the younger man.

“What do you want, John?” Sherlock asked curiously, for once looking vulnerable.

John smiled softly and reached up to kiss Sherlock properly, “You.” He whispered into the younger man's lips.

“Could be dangerous.” Sherlock grinned, resting his hands on John's hips.

“And yet, here I am.” John grinned back, stroking Sherlock's arm.

“Yes, you are.”

And with that Sherlock leaned back down to kiss the man he'd fell in love with the day he met him.


End file.
